


To Change Me

by Engiffyserce



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Domestic!AU, Gen, Other, PTSD, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, veteran!Joel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 13:02:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2694017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Engiffyserce/pseuds/Engiffyserce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joelay Prompts: "I was wondering if you could do a Soldier!Joel one. Where's he's either in the war (where Ray writes to him) or learning to live in the world now and Ray helps him."-Roosterbytes and "Both are bestfriends and something happens to Joel and he starts drinking and it irks Ray because he has a bad past with it and they fight and Joel punches Ray and regrets it. In the end they make up."-Xanzs</p>
<p> “I wish you’d let me help,” As Joel turned around, he was met with a younger man with plastic bags full of groceries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Change Me

**Author's Note:**

> ohhhhhhh myyy godd
> 
> Reviews are helpful! All constructive criticism welcome!

He had lost it all.

Everything he had put into those goddamned stocks.

And now it was gone.

He should have pulled the money when he had a chance. Retired a millionaire and left it alone. But no, his greed and ambition pushed him to this.

And it was now his burden to carry.

This dirty and dank apartment he had picked up by chance off a friend was all he had and it wasn’t even his. Most of the items in the small, one bedroom place were both broken and strapped together with duct tape or things he had just come across by the fate of his late night walks.

The chill of the outside slithered into his house and crept up his spine tediously as it prodded every vertebrate in turn. It wrapped itself gently around his neck before tugging sharply and taking away his ability to breathe. It tightened and tightened to the point where his lungs burned with the need for air and his chest ached. Panic started to seep into his bones as he choked on the last of his pride.

It wasn’t uncommon for his body to seize like this, especially not when he had nothing but words scalding the inside of his eyelids with warnings and prosecutions of his actions.

He _was_ a failure.

Joel Heyman took a deep breath, staring down at the bills on the table, red writing searing his eyes. The word “OVERDUE” scrawled across every single one of them. One particular piece of paper sat in his hand as he read it over and over again, wondering how fucked he was going to be in seven days’ time.

The ebony ink was sharp against the ivory paper. They jumped out at him with such force and aggression, he could feel the knot of fear twisting in his stomach. Each of the printed letters stood alone in their conviction. Each swoop of the ‘E’s and the dark strikes above the ‘I’s made his fingers go numb just a little more.

God, he hated himself.

                                _Dear Joel Heyman,_

_This letter is a formal notice to you demanding that you take immediate action upon the unpaid rent due under the legal terms of the rental agreement covering the following property:_

_7634 N. Alpine Street_

_Austin, TX 78701_

_As of November 17th, 2014, your September payment is thirty six days past due. Your rent was due on September 10, 2014. In addition, you owe late charges—_

The poignant notification was just another nail in his boarded coffin as his fate started to dawn on him. There was no escape of such a massacre of his own being. He was going to be subjected to this for the rest of his life and there was nothing that could stop it. Not his actions and not anybody else’s. 

Joel growled, crumpling up the papers and whipping it against the wall. He slammed his fist against the table, body tense and rage seething through his veins.

How could he be so fucking stupid?

He grabbed the pack of cigarettes laying on the wooden table and ripped one out of the package, lighting it with the coupled lighter. He took a long drag, leaning back in the rickety, plastic folding chair he had picked up from the trash. He exhaled and placed his palm to his forehead, letting out an airy _‘fuck’._ The Heyman closed his eyes, tears stinging at the corner of his eyes and emotions becoming too much to bear.

“I wish you’d let me help,” A new voice said, timid and careful.

As Joel turned around, he was met with a younger man with plastic bags full of groceries. The elder frowned, wondering if Ray had seen his outburst a moment ago.

Joel was never proud of those fits of anger, especially when his best friend witnessed them. Ray seem to have this sixth sense for when the Heyman was at his worst and he _hated_ it. He wasn’t big on people seeing his emotions in the first place, let alone somebody who he wanted to make a good impression on.

“I told you, your money isn’t good here,” The actor answered, although regretting the snappy tone he had. But it didn’t seem to faze the Narvaez at all; like he had heard it a thousand times before.

“And you being on the street isn’t any better,” He retorted in a calculated rhythm, setting the food down on an empty space of the table. Joel glared at him, looking from the plastic bags to the younger man. The two scrutinized the next move, guessing what each other was thinking. If it weren’t so important to their future endeavors, their prudency would have seemed like a game.

It was a board full of tricks and traps in a match of cat and mouse. One would chase the topic and the other snatched up the victim chasing the something they had no ground on. Both of them knew who was who, but neither would ever admit that out loud.

Joel told him not to buy the damn food on his behalf. He _told_ him he didn’t want it because he couldn’t pay the Narvaez back whatsoever. But the kid did and now Joel owed money Ray shouldn’t expect to see in a long, long time.

And Ray didn’t expect to be paid back, ever. He wasn’t up for watching the older man starve to death because he couldn’t pay for the necessities he needed. His best friend needed to live just as anyone else did; a mild comfort with some commodities to spare.

“Get that fucking food out of my face, Ray,” He snarled, standing up and grabbing his porcelain coffee mug that sat on the table in front of him. The elder walked to the kitchen, feet heavy. He leaned on the sink, back rigid and shoulders shaking in anger.

He should have stayed in the military.

“Joel, look, I can’t have you living like this, no matter what you think. It’s bad enough that you can’t get the treatments for your PTSD, but now you’re denying yourself _human necessities_. When was your last, honest-to-god meal?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“None of _my_ business? You’re my best friend! What the _fuck_ are you saying?” Ray took a step forward, throwing his jacket off his shoulders and onto the back of the folding chair. He waited for an answer, a sign that Joel didn’t actually believe what he was saying.

But no such sign happened. Anger rose inside the Narvaez. He had been pushed away and sidelined so many times in their relationship that the frustration and pent-up aggression was at its breaking point. He gritted his teeth, voice escalating to the point of screaming. His fists balled up and he took another step forward, making sure he was damn well heard.

“God-Just, fucking _answer me_!”

_Crash_.

The mug shattered in the sink, exploding on contact with the metal. Shards flew into the air and Joel slammed his palm on the edge of the counter, cracking it. Ray was in awe, backing up slowly. Never had he seen Joel so aggressive before. Never had he seen such force and fury built into the older man’s figure.

Especially not _because_ of him.

For the first time, Ray saw why Joel was such an asset to the army. They had pinned him in positions that _forced_ the anger out of him. It was a try or die for Joel and that’s what they distorted the world into. That’s what they made for the veteran.

The Heyman was overwhelmed, chest constricting and emotions washing over him like a tidal wave. He was so far gone he didn’t notice the large gash on his arm from a shard of the broken cup. He was trembling and tears ran down his worn face.

“Do you _want_ to know the truth? Even if I do eat, I can’t keep it down. I’m tired of _wasting_ everything because I’m just that disgustingly useless. I’m tired of hearing you thinking that you can help me in all of my shit,” Joel forced through gritted teeth. He grasped the edge of the sink, swaying on the spot. “Do you want to _know_ , Narvaez? I should have died on that sand dune in Afghanistan. I should have bled out and allowed whatever vultures out there to eat me. I shouldn’t _be here_.”

Ray was careful as he silently moved behind the elder, wrapping his arms around the other. He waited for a violent response, ready to jump back and allow the Heyman to have as much space as he needed. The moments between were filled with absolute silence as he listened to the older man sob.

As Joel broke down farther and farther, they slowly dropped to the floor. He was crumpled and defeated as he leaned his forehead against the cabinet in front of him.

“I’m sorry,” He managed through hiccoughs and wheezes. The Narvaez whispered comforting things as he managed to hold the elder clos. He listened to the rapid heartbeat and the choppy breaths. He listened to the untold story of his friend and the silent screams that deafened both of them.

When Ray finally spoke, his voice was weak and his words were only soft whispers in Joel’s ear. “Promise you’ll let me help. Please.”

Joel hesitated in his answer, fingers digging into the grout of the tiled floor. He wasn’t sure if he could do such a thing. To let another help was to open up to every little piece of disgusting fact and disturbing truth about him and it sickened him. The younger would walk out when he knew. There was no assumption. Everyone walked away.

He didn’t want to lose Ray.

“No-I can’t let you know. I-I can’t have you leaving because you know the real me. I’m-I’m—“ The Narvaez pressed his hand to the Heyman’s mouth, effectively silencing him.

“I’m not leaving. Not in a million years. I just need you to promise me that you’ll let me do something for you. _Anything, please_.”

Joel shut his eyes tight, taking a deep breath. It was now or never.

“Okay.”

 


End file.
